Breaking
by Actias Knight
Summary: Years after the events in Without, Marx has spiraled into a depression. One of Zero's personal rivals takes notice and jumps in to try and take advantage of his weakness. Rated for language, sexual themes and eventual violence.
1. Chapter 1

**This is the sequel to my story 'Without', so if you haven't read it you should probably go do that first. For the rest of you, if you can't deal with sexual content you should probably click the back button. That is all.**

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><p>Marx wandered through the halls of the empty castle aimlessly, his footsteps echoing faintly off the ancient stonework. There was a time he would have been busy amusing himself by tormenting the civilians, but not anymore. A veil of melancholy hung over him, the normally enthusiastic jester's gaze staring off somberly in a far unseeable distance.<p>

It had been a few years since he'd first met Zero, and many planets had fallen under his power since then. There had been nothing quite as thrilling as having total control of an entire planet and doing whatever he wanted with it. But, over the years, he'd grown more and more depressed.

Marx rarely ever got to see Zero anymore, receiving most of his orders through the Dark Matter. It hadn't been like that at first, but over time it seemed like Zero had become determined to avoid him at all costs. Unlike the Dark Matter, who'd adjusted remarkably well, Zero was having an extreme difficulty accepting his new set of emotions. He often became temperamental as a result and refused to allow Marx to come near him much.

Dejected and consumed by loneliness, he no longer derived pleasure from the mindless slaughter of countless innocents. The only thing he had to look forward to was when Zero had to come feed him his blood, as it was the only time Zero would reluctantly allow him to come near. Not that it helped his mood much.

Marx sighed, rubbing his temples with his claws in an attempt to ease his pounding head. Zero was late.

Again.

"One of these days he's probably not even going to show up at all," grumbled Marx, kicking at a stone in his frustration. He made his way to the castle garden, where he'd overrun the pace with massive rosebushes. His plants were a small comfort for him, so he made a point to create a pile of them on every planet he conquered.

The roses were beginning to blacken, a sign that this particular planet was almost ready for assimilation. He felt no satisfaction from this knowledge. Another planet soon to be lost to oblivion. Big deal.

"Marx?" called out a familiar voice.

"Yeah, I'm here," said Marx flatly, not bothering to move. From the corner of his eye he could see the tell-tale whiteness of Zero's form.

"You're late again," added Marx.

"You don't help things by wandering off into an abandoned castle without telling anyone," said Zero, moving himself in front of the jester.

"I guess so," said Marx, stubbornly refusing to look up at him.

"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter," said Zero, settling himself on the ground, "I found you regardless. Now come here before it worsens."

"No," said Marx, turning away from him petulantly. Zero didn't bother giving him the argument he seemed to be trying to start. Instead he extended his tail and gently drew Marx to him, allowing him to passively lean against his matted fur.

"You look tired," said Zero, noting the dark circles under his eyes, "Have you not been sleeping?"

"Just...bad dreams," said Marx, relaxing somewhat as he felt the first drops of blood drip down on him.

"Oh, like what?" asked Zero. He was hardly oblivious to Marx's descent into depression, but he had no idea how to help him or any understanding as to why it was even happening. He was beginning to worry things would become the way it had with Chroma all over again.

"I don't want to talk about it right now," said Marx, snuggling closer. As much as he wanted to reject Zero's company out of spite, he couldn't help but enjoy the sensation of his blood trickling down on him. He found it's warmth quite soothing, and for a moment he could forget everything that was troubling him.

"I love you," muttered Marx, the sound of his voice muffled by Zero's fur. There was no response, leading Marx to believe he had not heard him until he felt his tail purposefully slip between his feet. He gasped in a mixture of surprise and pleasure, shivering as Zero carefully caressed him. He knew this was dangerous, as Zero's spines still bore sharp tips even in his relaxed state, but this knowledge only served to further excite him. Losing himself to instinct, he began to lap up Zero's blood hungrily while unconsciously spreading his feet to give him easier access.

"You've not taken any females recently," noted Zero, still able to maintain his frigid countenance even with the moaning jester pressed up against him.

"Ah...how do you know that?" asked Marx.

"I can smell them on you when you do," answered Zero.

"Zero...hah...you don't even have a nose," teased Marx. He thought he saw a spark of amusement flicker in Zero's eye, but it was so quick he might as well have imagined it. His thoughts were swiftly forgotten as he climaxed, letting out a soft growl as he clamped down on Zero with his fangs. It took him a moment to realize what he was doing.

"Oh shit, sorry!" exclaimed Marx, promptly letting go.

"It's fine," said Zero as if nothing had happened, "That should be more than enough blood for a while." He lifted himself off the ground, clearly intending to leave.

"Waaait," whined Marx, "Don't go."

"Marx you know that's not..." began Zero.

"Pleaaaase," pleaded Marx, making himself look as cute as possible, "Just for a little while?" Zero rolled his eye. He hated it when he tried to cute his way into getting what he wanted. It was a terrible habit.

"Fine," said Zero, "Just take that insincere look off your face before I do it for you."

"Shut-up," spat Marx with an exaggerated frown.

"Hmm...better." said Zero, resting his form back onto the ground. Marx grinned in spite of himself. Zero normally rejected his attempts at convincing him to stay. This was a pleasant change, if only for the moment.

Marx curled up beside Zero, exhaustion catching up to him. He was soon fast asleep, leaving Zero to ponder whether or not he should slink off until he too drifted to sleep. Unbeknownst to either of them, they were not as alone as they thought.


	2. Chapter 2

All Zero ever dreamed about was nothing. All he cared about was nothing. For he was nothing. As of late he often felt the need to remind himself of this fact, not willing to allow his new emotions to change his outlook. He also often reminded himself that the only reason why he kept Marx around was because he was useful. There could be no other reason. No reason.

Nothing.

It was then that he realized he was not alone. He knew this presence well. Quickly wiping all thoughts from his mind, he closed his eye and refused to acknowledge the presence behind him.

"Well, well, well," it said in an amused tone, "Someone is considerably less empty today."

Zero didn't respond. He knew better than to play its game. To do so would only give it strength. He could sense it moving around, digging through his mind in search of something to latch on to. Anything that it could use against him.

"Come now Zero," it chastised, "That's hardly a way to welcome an old friend."

Zero finally opened his eye, giving the starry blue sphere before him the benefit of a death glare.

"Leave me be Nightmare," said Zero, "There is nothing for you here."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," said Nightmare, cackling with amusement. The blue sphere slowly changed its shape, transforming into a tall cloaked figure. He wore a pair of pauldrons on each shoulder and upon his head rested a golden crown bearing tall curved horns. The starry orbs of his eyes were obscured by his sunglasses and his robotic arms were the only limbs visible from beneath the abyss of his cape. Within one of those mechanical claws was a tiny sleeping form.

It was Marx.

No, not truly Marx. An illusion of Marx; much like the illusion of Nightmare's presence before him. The god of fear was not so stupid that he would enter enemy territory, but when it came to the realm of dreams he could reach anyone from the safety of his fortress. His recent loss against Kirby had left him incredibly weakened, but Zero knew better than to underestimate his long time competitor. He continued to stare at him coldly, refusing to give him more than the most minimal of response required.

"I've been watching your little friend for quite some time now," said Nightmare, undeterred by Zero's stubborn aloofness, "So small. So sad. Such a fool. He cries himself to sleep every night now you know. How long, do you think, will it be until he...falls apart?" As he spoke he lifted Marx with the tips of his metallic fingers and slowly tore him in half. The illusion kicked and screamed, crying out to Zero in a horrific display of anguish. On the surface Zero remained unmoved, but on the inside he was boiling with rage. This detail did not escape the evil wizard's notice.

"He'd make a fine addition to my collection of beasts, wouldn't you agree?" asked Nightmare.

"I suppose," answered Zero, "If you fancy dead jesters." Nightmare's grin widened, thoroughly enjoying the moment. Although the conversation wasn't quite going the way he'd wanted, to get any response at all meant he must be striking a nerve somewhere.

"Ah, so you do have a sense of humor after all," said Nightmare, "His body may belong to you, but his mind...That is something beyond even your control. In any case, I have other business to attend to. Minds to brainwash. Beginning with the little one beside you." With that he turned to leave.

"You will do no such thing," hissed Zero.

"Hmm, what was that?" asked Nightmare, nonchalantly turning his attention back to him, "I don't think I quite heard you."

"I will not allow you to harm Marx," said Zero. Nightmare grinned.

"You've already done that for me."

Zero awoke with a start. After quickly looking around himself he found that Marx was no longer with him.

"Marx?" he called, "Where are you?" Fearing the worst he rose into the air to survey the area. Luckily, the blackened landscape made the jester's red and blue hat stick out like a spotlight in the darkness. As he approached he noticed that Marx had curled up inside his hat.

"Marx?" said Zero, quieter this time to avoid startling him. His companion had grown very argumentative as of late, jumping on any opportunity to start a fight. He didn't want to turn this situation into another such pointless argument, especially now that he knew the jester had drawn his rival's attention.

"You hate me don't you," said Marx, still keeping himself hidden inside his hat.

"What?" said Zero, "Where did you get such a ridiculous notion?"

Silence.

Zero sighed, lightly resting his tail on him. It was the most he was willing to do to try and comfort him.

"It's those dreams you mentioned isn't it?" said Zero, "Don't listen to them. You know better."

"Then why have I been having them ever since I met you?" asked Marx.

_Has he really been plaguing his dreams all this time?_

"...Marx, we should leave now," said Zero.

"Why?" asked Marx.

"I have reason to believe you're in danger," answered Zero, "But as long as you remain by my side you have nothing to fear." Marx emitted a soft chuckle, turning to him as he lifted his hat. Zero quickly backed away in disgust upon seeing that Marx's eyes were entirely blue with silver stars glimmering within.

"Nightmare," spat Zero as if the name were venom. The false Marx cackled.

"I finally got you this time," he said with glee, "To think that a jester would be your weakness...why, that alone is quite the joke!" He was rolling around on the ground with laughter, far too pleased with himself.

Dimly, Zero thought he heard the sound of someone calling his name. He realized that it must be Marx trying to wake him. Ignoring the laughing Nightmare he latched onto the sound of that voice, using it to pull himself back to consciousness. Zero's eye snapped open and his entire body jumped slightly from awakening so quickly, causing the real Marx to cease yanking on his fur and roll away.

"Geez, you are one heavy sleeper," said Marx as he dazedly pushed himself back to his feet, "Look at all that fur, how did you sleep long enough for me to do that? I'll bet the whole universe could implode and you wouldn't notice."

"Did you have another bad dream?" asked Zero, noting that Marx had actually torn out chunks of his fur which were now drifting around them lightly.

"No, quite the opposite actually," said Marx, giggling a little.

"Oh..." said Zero, not quite getting what he meant. He considered telling Marx about what had just happened, but decided that it might be counterproductive and only frighten him. Fear would only serve to make things easier for Nightmare. He had to find a way to turn things around before he made his next move.

"Uh, sorry about that," said Marx, awkwardly gathering up the balls of fluff scattered around them and pushing them in front of Zero.

"I'm not angry, just lost in thought," assured Zero. Seeing that he didn't look quite convinced he brushed his eyelashes against him, causing him to squeal and squirm away.

"Come," continued Zero, satisfied that Marx was in a relatively good mood now, "Let's go."

"Huh? Where are we going?" asked Marx.

"Home."


	3. Chapter 3

**So sorry it took me so long to get around to updating this thing. I've been pretty busy with other things, but after seeing some of the reviews decided to try and take the time to continue this thing. I can't guarantee that I'll update very often, but I'll do my best.**

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><p>The Dark Star was very much unchanged despite the years since Marx had last seen it. The profound silence which clung about it could become quite maddening. On rare occasions the Dark Matter there would hum in unison, singing a strangely beautiful but melancholic song. Violet once told him that Zero sometimes joined them, but that to hear him sing would surely tear his soul from his mortal body and send him to death. Marx found the thought of it far more fascinating that he probably should have.<p>

In his days under Zero's wing he'd managed to find and read many ancient texts filled with old legends and stories of all manner of strange creatures. One such text, found in the depths of Shiver Star, spoke of creatures called Seraphim, six-winged beings so blindingly beautiful that looking upon them directly would strike the onlooker dead. He couldn't help but wonder if it was an ancient, albeit confused, description of Zero.

"Marx," began Zero, pulling the jester out of his thoughts, "You must stay here until you are better."

"I think you're overreacting a little," said Marx, flopping onto Zero's head, "It's only bad dreams, nothing serious."

"Nothing serious..." echoed Zero, earning an annoyed frown from Marx.

"Okay then," said Marx, teleporting off of Zero and reappearing in front of him "Why did you really bring me here?" Zero stared at him for a long moment, as if expecting the answer to be written on the jester's forehead.

"I...will only answer that if you tell me the contents of your dreams," said Zero, a finality in his voice that told Marx he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Fiiiine," he replied childishly, "Most of the time I just dream of being killed by Kirby over and over again, but sometimes...I get these really strange dreams where I'm in a small dark room. I can't move and there's a mirror in front of me. But the reflection, it's not me."

"Who is it?" asked Zero.

"Well, it **looks **like me," he continued, "But it isn't. The eyes, they're-"

"-full of stars," cut-in Zero.

"Yes that's..." said Marx, stumbling a little in confusion, "That's exactly right. How did you know that?"

"I know many things,"he said evasively, "What does this reflection do?"

"He tells me things," answered Marx, a hint of fear slipping into his voice,"I don't understand most of it but he scares me. I don't like it Zero. What's happening to me?" The God of Nothing seemed rather hesitant to answer, signs of uncertainty and worry flickering in his normally ice cold gaze.

"Marx..."he finally began, "There are many immensely powerful beings in this universe. Immortal beings not unlike myself. Many of which will do anything in their power to stop me."

"What are you saying?" said Marx, giggling nervously, "Nightmares aren't gods."

"No," said Zero, "but Nightmare is **a** god. The third eldest of the Outer Gods in fact."

"Third?" said Marx, "Who are the other two?"

"Death is the second," answered Zero, "I am the first."

"Then these dreams..."began Marx.

"Nightmare is the source of all bad dreams," explained Zero, "He is also the God of Fear, impossible for mortals to kill, for a part of his power lives within you all. He is also a sleazy businessman at heart and will do everything in his power to ensnare others in a bad deal. Whatever you do, accept nothing from him no matter how tempting. There is always a catch."

"He must have some kind of weakness though," said Marx, eager to get rid of the source of his problem.

"Much like my weakness is embodied within the Love Love Stick,"answered Zero, "Nightmare's weakness lies within the Star Rod. It is the power source of dreams, and thus can rob him of his power and banish him from the mortal realm. But don't get any ideas. The Star Rod lies hidden between spaces within the fountain of dreams and the secret to retrieving it is in the hands of a powerful foe of ours."

"Who?" asked Marx.

"Kirby."


	4. Chapter 4

Anger.

Such anger that there was a lingering madness within it. He didn't know where it had come from or why he'd felt that way upon regaining consciousness. All he knew is that he'd desperately wanted to kill _something_.

_But what?_

His memory was a mystifying haze, but he did recall that there was much bitterness and anger in his past. Something tragic must have happened to him, he was sure of that much. Upon awakening he had hardly even been given time to grasp his surroundings when he'd been attacked by...well, he wasn't entirely sure what. It had all happened at such dizzying speed he never even registered what he was fighting. Driven by blind rage alone he had fought with all his might and lost. His physical body had dissolved, but somehow he felt fine now. Better even.

_Free._

To say he was a bit confused would have been the understatement of the century. He wandered aimlessly upon the brightly coloured planet he found himself on, dimly feeling a sense of déjà vue as every living creature seemed hellbent on avoiding him. He had all but given up hope on finding someone who would speak to him when he picked up the sounds of children playing nearby.

While drifting towards the sounds a bright yellow ball came bouncing towards him, lightly bumping against a nearby tree before coming to a full stop. He could hear the children bickering amongst themselves, no doubt over who would be tasked with retrieving the ball. Sighing, he moved over to it and gingerly picked it up in his black talons to have a closer look.

In the corner of his eye he spotted another ball coming towards him, though his instincts told him that wasn't quite right. Turning towards it, he saw that the pink ball was in fact alive and eyeing him rather curiously with bright blue eyes. It seemed familiar somehow.

"Poyo?", it spoke, a mixture of curiosity and wariness in it's voice.

"_Poyo?_", he parroted, earning a delighted squeal from the strange little being despite the alien tenebrousness of his voice. He wasn't entirely sure what the word meant but he hoped it had gotten across that he meant no harm.

"_N'gai, y'hah_," he continued gently, offering the ball back.

"Kirbyyy? Where are you?", called out a feminine voice in the distance, causing the child to look back.

"_Kirby? N'ra kthun h'ehye?_", he asked. When that only earned a confused stare from the pink creature he carefully translated: "Is that your name?"

"Poyo! Kaabii! Kaabii!", said the pink ball, waving his stubby arms around cheerfully. It wasn't exactly a yes but he supposed it was close enough.

Through the bushes came another child, this one much taller and older than Kirby; with fine facial features and a hint of breasts that indicated it was probably female. She seemed relieved at first, but the instant her green eyes fell upon Kirby's new friend her breath noticeably caught in her throat. There was recognition and fear in her gaze.

"_Ygnaiih_... Please, do not run," he said pleadingly, "I cannot even remember my own name. Do you know me? _N'kath?_" There was a tense silence as the girl considered his words, fiddling nervously with the ends of her blonde ponytail.

"Not really," she answered, her expression filled with unspoken suspicions, "We only spoke once, remember?"

"I'm afraid not, Miss...?"

"Fumu."

He knew that name, but he could not remember where. It was like remembering you'd had a dream but not being able to grasp exactly what it was. He clutched the sides of his head, trembling with utter frustration.

"Why can't I remember anything?" he groaned miserably.

"How can you expect me to believe that?!" said Fumu with a sudden fury, "You attacked us and tried to make everyone miserable! I'll bet you're just trying to gain our trust so you can-!" She was suddenly startled into silence by a gloved hand gently resting on her shoulder.

"That's enough Fumu," calmly said the armored puffball.

"Sir Meta Knight!" she exclaimed, "Don't tell me you believe him!"

"I believe if he was planning to attack us he would have done so already," explained Meta Knight.

"Poyo!" said Kirby, seeming to be in agreement. Fumu sighed in a mixture of defeat and annoyance. Meta Knight had a strange way of being right about these kinds of things and there was little point arguing about it anyhow. They would just have to wait and see.

"Thank you," said the Dark Matter, "It seems I have done terrible things to you all...I do not understand what, but I hope I can redeem myself in your eyes."

"Well I guess we should show you around a little," said Fumu, clearly not happy with the situation, "I still don't trust you, so you better not try anything funny."

"What is 'funny'?" he asked, tilting in genuine curiosity.

"Just don't get too close to anyone okay?" the girl snapped. The Dark Matter nodded meekly in response.

_Note to self: funny is bad._


End file.
